Changes
by TylerHunt
Summary: A HouseCharmed crossover WITHOUT the supernatural element! I just borrowed the characters. Pairing: Dr. Robert ChaseChris Halliwell, and therefore SLASH! Consider yourself warned.
1. Chapter 1

**Title:** Changes  
**Author:** TylerHunt  
**Fandom:** House/Charmed Crossover AU, **without** any supernatural element  
**Characters:** Dr. Robert Chase/Chris Halliwell  
**Word Count:** 1,890  
**Rating:** PG so far  
**Disclaimer:** Not mine (unfortunately), not making money with it (which is even more unfortunate).  
**Warning:** **Slash!** AU! Chase-friendly! laughs Does that require a warning?  
**Beta:** The lovely, fantabulous Snookerfran who'd saved my live. Thank you so much, hon!  
**Author's Notes:** I can't tell you where I got the idea this pairing could fit, or why putting these two together, of all people, could be great. One day I woke up and there it was. The idea, I mean. Anyway. I hope you'll like it. Let me know what you think. :)  
Again: **This is SLASH, people!** So spare me your flames, you're warned now.

For all of you, who know this story from a certain LJ already: no worries, lovelies, it's still me. :) I just thought I'd gather some more readers - greedy as I am - and needed a "job-mates and relatives free" account for it. If you don't believe me, just write me an e-mail to the usual address. :) loves

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Part 1 

Dr. Robert Chase was on his way to clinic duties. Not that he minded. Since the 'Vogler incident', House had lost his trust in him completely. And deservedly so. He'd recently asked Chase why on Earth he should put up with a treacherous rat like him in the future, and Chase had replied because he didn't have a choice, even though Chase wasn't so sure about the answer.

If it hadn't been for Vogler, who'd kept to their mutual agreement and saved his ass when House had been about to fire him in favour of Foreman and Cameron, he would've been out already. He neither had Cameron's desire to fix everybody and everything, nor her sympathy for the patients and her will to see the good things in people, even in House.

And he surely didn't have the self-confidence and remarkable knowledge and experience of an Eric Foreman. The black doctor seemed to always know what he was doing; he wasn't afraid of contradicting House whenever or wherever and he never backed down, no matter how furious, snarky or hurtful House became. Foreman just kept going; doing his "thing".

Yes. Amongst the three ducklings of them, Chase knew Foreman was the best.

But Chase remained like dirt beneath House's shoe: the head of Diagnostics would never let him come near a halfway interesting case ever again. Chase's "department" was "research" now. Meaning, spending endless hours in front of a computer, googling around.

So clinic hours weren't too bad. At least he actually had something to _do_.

"Ten minutes," Chris Halliwell announced when he and his friend Bianca entered the Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital. "I'll stay exactly ten minutes. If there isn't a doctor who can see me then, I'm out of here."

He looked around the clinic's waiting room: it was stuffed, which seemed promising. There was no way he'd be seen within ten minutes, and that suited him fine. He didn't want to have to go through some useless examination and an even more useless treatment. The young, dark-haired woman next to him shot him an impatient glance and replied,

"You know, if you hadn't kissed Chet's current girlfriend, we wouldn't even have to _be_ here."

"I _didn't_ kiss her! _She_ kissed _me_! There's a difference."

"Kiss me next time and you'll stay out of trouble."

"I'd have to kiss Richard before that asshole Chet stops being jealous without any reason at all," Chris muttered and Bianca tilted her head thoughtfully.

"Now, there's an image," she said.

Chris rolled his eyes and regretted it immediately, when a sharp pain shot down his spine violent enough to make is toes tingle. Damn! The "star quaterback" of their school really threw a mean right hook. Chris flinched and Bianca winced in sympathy.

"Let them take a look at you, okay?" she said. "Only to make sure there's no inner bleeding."

"There isn't," Chris insisted. "I'd be worse by now if there was."

"You're such a child!"

"And you're a pain in the ass, Bi!"

With that he leaned against the nearest wall and ignored her. Fuck! His parents would have a fit when he came home like that. No doctor and no cosmetician would be able to camouflage the black eye he was currently sporting. Maybe not even an Academy Award winning make-up artist. The swelling had spread over the whole left side of his face already. Let alone that he couldn't walk upright properly, because marring his face hadn't been enough. No! 'Mr. I-Tarzan-you-nothing' had to punch him in the stomach, too. Asshole!

"Do you think Wyatt will take care of that?" Bianca asked.

Wrong question. Utterly wrong question.

"I don't give a fuck! I'm perfectly able to live my life without my big brother watching over me, you know?"

Bianca eyed him sarcastically.

"Yeah. I can see that."

Useless. Every attempt to talk with Bianca reasonably was useless. Didn't she know that there were hundreds of boys at school, getting beat up by some bulky hunks almost every day, who _didn't_ have a big brother and were still able to survive college?

"That's it," he said, and pushed himself off the wall, flinching a little at the sudden stab of pain. "Time's up. I'm out of here."

Without waiting for an answer he made a beeline for the exit. – Only to be stopped abruptly by a young blond doctor running straight into him.

"OW! Jesus! Can't you keep your eyes open?"

"Likewise," a soft British-sounding accent replied. "Next time just hoot, okay?"

Chris tried to ignore the pain and looked up into a pair of the bluest eyes he'd ever seen.

Chase inhaled sharply when the young man glanced up at him. Light blue eyes, framed by long, dark lashes, soft lips slightly parted in surprise. Was it just him or had the temperature risen a bit within the past few seconds?

The moment stretched, both men still staring at each other, unable to do anything else. Even though Chase was fully aware of how awkward they must look, he couldn't bring himself to move, not wanting this moment to end.

It took a second for the words of a female voice to register in his temporarily-out-of-order brain.

Chase blinked slowly. Once. Twice. The young man still clinging to his white coat mirroring his movements.

"Sorry," the doctor finally managed. "Come again?"

He turned his head to look at the young woman, who had spoken and she looked back at him doubtfully.

"Are you sure you're a doctor?"

"White coat, stethoscope, a nameplate with a 'Dr.' before my name, yes, I'm sure."

The woman rolled her eyes.

"Are you in charge here?"

"Currently? Yes."

"He was beaten up. Could you please take a look at him?"

"Bianca." The young man seemed to have found his speech again. "There are, like, a million people before me and it's nothing, really. We can just go."

Chase returned his attention to the guy, trying to look at him a little more professionally now. A large black eye and a swelling of the left side of his face. The arm now sprawled protectively over his stomach indicated abdominal pain. Chase nodded as if to himself and said,

"I'll make it quick. This way. Sister Hazel! Would you follow me, please?"

Bianca watched as the blond doctor and Chris walked over to an examination room. For a second she could've sworn that Chris...But no. Impossible. Chris was so straight it actually hurt sometimes. Bianca shook her head. No. She must've been imagining things.

Chris was still a little dazed. Not to mention utterly confused by the strong reaction he'd had to the appearance of this doctor. Chase. Robert Chase, the name tag on his coat was telling Chris. Bob. Bobby. _'Stop it!'_ Christ, this was ridiculous! He wasn't gay! He'd never been the least bit interested in men.

Still Chris was looked over Dr. Robert Chase, examining him carefully, while he told the nurse his name and date of birth and other things they needed for the reception. Finally the nurse left and Dr. Chase asked softly,

"Who did this to you? Your parents?"

"No!" A simultaneous cry from both Chris and Bianca.

"Christ, no," the young man continued. "They don't even know about it yet."

"So? What happened?"

"He kissed someone he shouldn't have been kissing," Bianca explained. Chris shot her an irritated glance.

"Did _not_. I told you it was _her_, who kissed me."

"Looked entirely different for Chet."

"He should wear glasses then."

"You know, maybe you should _really_ consider kissing Richard to get out of that."

"You wish."

"Okay, maybe you're right. As soon as Wyatt knows, Chet is _so_ in for a surprise."

"Wyatt?" Chase asked.

"My older brother," sighed Chris, and addressing Bianca he continued, "You do know that I can actually stand up for myself, right?"

"You could. But usually you just don't. Which is, coming to think of it, a little odd."

Chris just shrugged.

"I only choose to ignore the fights not worth fighting, and that's one of them. Jenny won't come near me ever again, case closed."

Bianca rolled her eyes heavenwards in mock desperation.

"You can be so incredibly dense sometimes, Halliwell! She has a major crush on you. Hello? She wouldn't stay away even if her life depended on it." The young woman shook her head. "Men!"

"I'll only have to wait a week at the most, right?" Chris replied, almost bored.

"What?" Bianca looked at him disbelievingly, for once not able to decipher what the hell he was talking about.

"Next week Chet will have another Barbie to play with, so he won't give a fuck what Jenny'll be doing or not or doing with whom. The danger will eliminate itself."

Bianca stared a little longer, then turned to Chase as if she thought it completely useless to continue arguing with Chris and asked,

"So? What is it?"

"I'm not sure yet."

Dr. Chase continued to shine with a lamp into Chris's eyes, put a finger in front of him that Chris had to follow with his eyes, and asked him some questions, which Chris answered dutifully.

"He doesn't have a concussion," the young doctor finally stated. "As for the rest..."

He turned back to Chris and said, "I'm sorry. This could hurt a little."

It didn't. Okay, a little, but not much. Not as much as Chris had been afraid it would. In fact Dr. Chase was so careful that Chris eyes fluttered shut by the gentle touch of the doctor's hand palpating his chest and stomach. Chris didn't know for how long they stayed like that. Somewhere along the way he'd lost track of time. The young man opened his eyes again when Dr. Chase asked,

"Do you do sports of some sort?"

The doctor's handsome face was only inches away from his own and Chris felt a familiar tingle in his belly. His eyes widened in shock when he realised what that meant and drew back as far as he could.

"I...It's..." He sounded a tad breathless. "I'm in the swim team," he finally managed.

Dr. Chase nodded.

"Not for the next few weeks," he said. "I'll prescribe you an ointment and some painkillers. If it's not getting clearly better within the next, say, five days, you'll have to come back, okay? If it's getting worse, you'll have to come back immediately, of course."

"Thank you, doctor," Bianca said.

Chris said nothing. What the hell was wrong with him? Dr. Chase handed him the prescription and their fingers touched briefly. Butterflies. Clearly butterflies in his belly. Chris turned and headed for the door. No way. He wasn't turned on by a man. Period.

Chase watched Chris go. Maybe it was only wishful thinking, but maybe he'd really seen the brief flash of desire in the younger man's eyes.

"I'm sorry," the young woman – Bianca? – said. "He's really acting strange today. I mean, stranger than usual. Chris isn't exactly a sunshine on his good days, but today grumpy is too weak a word for his mood."

Chase smiled.

"Nevermind. See that he'll be following doctor's orders and he'll be fine again in less than no time."

"Thank you, Dr. Chase."

"You're welcome."

The young woman turned and left, leaving Chase wondering if he'd finally lost his mind.

The end (for now)

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A/N: Want me to post more? 


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N:** **Azkabanrunaway**, **To Hell With Valentine's** and **ScarletOfTheBlue**, I hope you all got my answers on your wonderful reviews. I've never gotten any feedback at all, so up until now I have absolutely no idea whether this "reply" button on the review page works or not. In case you **haven't** gotten an answer, I suppose it went straight into your spam mail folder. Just tell me in your next review and I'll e-mail you directly. :)

Okay, so... This will be the last chapter for a while, because I'll be without computer for about two weeks, but I promise I do my best to update this as soon as possible when I'm back from my vacation.

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Chris closed the door and walked through the hallway towards the staircase, but the sound of his mother's voice to the right of him stopped him mid-stride.

"Where have you been?"

She was sitting on the couch in the living room.

"Out."

"Alone?"

Chris rolled his eyes.

"With friends. Mom, it's six p.m. Isn't it a little too early for the Spanish Inquisition?"

She ignored his sarcasm as usual, giving him a quick once-over.

"How are you?"

It was a week ago that Chet had used him as a punching-ball, and the black eye had already started to fade, but his ribs and stomach were still hurting.

"Fine."

"I wish your father was here. That damn conference."

"And what difference would that make? Dad's not the only doctor, you know? That aside, he's never at home anyway, even if he's in town."

He turned away and continued his way up to his room. He really needed to get out of here. Living with your parents at the age of twenty was pretty much like Hell. Felt a little like twenty-four-hours-observation. But really, he had other problems at the moment. And his _biggest_ problem was to get Dr. Robert Chase out of his head.

It had been ridiculous right from the start and it had become even more ridiculous since then. No matter what he did, he always seemed to hear that smooth accent whispering sweet nothings into his ear, feel gentle hands touching his belly...

Chris had tried to fight it by sleeping with pretty much every girl around and willing, but the picture he saw in front of his mind's eye, the name he whispered as inaudibly as possible when he came, was always "Robert".

And that was slowly driving him in-fucking-sane.

xxx

Chase was bored. With a capital B. At least his colleagues weren't avoiding him like the plague, so he had the chance to have just a _little_ conversation at lunch break.

Cameron, Foreman and Chase were on their way back from the cafeteria when Cameron said, "I'm sure House will get over it soon. I mean, if he wanted to fire you, he would have done it by now, right? Right?"

But Chase had only heard the first five words she'd said. He'd just seen Chris Halliwell being dragged through the front entrance by a tall man with dark-blond hair, and it had distracted him. Cameron blinked when she noticed she'd lost her partner in this conversation.

"Chase?"

The Australian doctor ignored her and headed towards the young man, still loudly announcing his displeasure.

"Stop shaking me, you Neanderthal! That hurts!"

"For somebody who's constantly telling me he's fine, you're whining a lot, don't you think?" the taller man growled.

Wyatt's grasp on his younger brother's neck ensured that Chris could do nothing but flinch.

"Hello," said Dr. Chase in the soft British-sounding accent that had followed Chris into his dreams. "Can I help you?"

The taller man's gaze scanned him from head to toe, then focussed on his eyes.

"I'm Wyatt Halliwell. Did you examine my brother a week ago, Dr...?"

"Chase, and yes," he confirmed. "But he showed no sign of a concussion or internal bleeding. I prescribed him an ointment and painkillers and told him to come back if it's not gotten any better within about five days."

Wyatt looked at Chris and furrowed his brows.

"A small detail he obviously forgot to mention." He tilted his head. "British?"

"Australian."

"Sorry."

"No need."

Chris growled impatiently.

"And now that the niceties are over: can we please leave?"

Wyatt looked at the young man still more or less at his mercy.

"Mom said you have to go to the hospital to let a doctor check on you, and now we _are_ at the hospital. We're not going anywhere until this nice young man has re-examined you."

"Mommy's boy."

"Actually that would be you, bro. I'm more like dad."

"Problems?"

Foreman and Cameron had decided that the situation looked a little awkward – if not dangerous – and had finally followed Chase over to the reception desk. The young Australian turned a little and explained,

"My two colleagues. Dr. Foreman and Dr. Cameron." He gestured at Chris and his brother. "Wyatt and Chris Halliwell. And no. No problems at all."

"You know, you could really let me go now," Chris muttered.

Wyatt did as he was told.

"Don't even think about running. I'm faster than you," he remarked.

"Only when I'm in my current state," Chris replied and his brother snorted good-naturedly.

"Maybe we should take this some place else," Chase suggested. He turned and walked towards the examination rooms.

xxx

"So?" the Australian asked after he'd closed the door. "How bad is it?"

"Not bad at all," Chris replied impatiently. "I'm fine."

"Maybe he is," Wyatt said, leaning against the wall. "Our mother was worried and thought it wouldn't hurt to get him looked after again. No pun intended. I'd have waited for dad to come home, but...well."

"Your father's a doctor?" Chase was surprised.

"Yes. But at the moment he's in Virginia at some kind of conference," Chris answered. "And seriously, Chet is, like, twice my size and weight. Not to mention meaner. The pain hasn't gotten worse, I swear. I think it'll just take time to heal."

Chase nodded.

"Okay. Then just let me check on you to soothe your mother and you'll be out of here again in less than no time, okay?"

Chris sighed.

"Okay."

He took his shirt off and Wyatt came a little closer.

"Hm... That looks bad."

His younger brother rolled his eyes.

"No shit."

Chase ignored the brotherly banter resulting from this reaction and started his examination carefully. The bruises on the younger man's chest and stomach had turned from the dark red Chase had seen last week into all kinds of colours; blue, green, yellow, purple, black... The Australian stroked the injured skin so softly that it was almost a caress, and he felt strong muscles flexing under his fingertips.

"You'd made a good rainbow now," he murmured, and Chris grimaced.

"Gee, thanks. I'm sure that'll help a great deal, since I've always wanted to turn into a Hippie. Now I'll only need proper flower-power clothes and you can call me Moonchild."

Chase smiled crookedly, but didn't reply.

Chris had been almost afraid to face the young doctor since they'd left home, and had hoped that it wouldn't be Dr. Chase who'd be examining him again. But now that it _was_ Dr. Chase, it didn't seem to be such a bad thing. Chris had actually been relieved that Dr. Chase hadn't asked one of his colleagues to take a look at him, and that was what was _really_ confusing. Or... not. Actually it was more...disturbing. But in a good way. At least it felt good. Chris closed his eyes. He was so doomed.

Warm hands slid over his belly, stroking his abdomen ever-so-lightly. Chris could smell the scent of the Australian's aftershave, a little of the hospital Dr. Chase was working in and...

"Wyatt, could you wait outside?"

"What? Why?"

Chris opened his eyes and shot him an irritated look.

"Because I'm legally of age and I want you to."

Wyatt returned the look and frowned. The moment dragged on and for a split-second Chris felt the urge to scream at his older brother to get the fuck out of here, but fortunately he didn't have the chance.

"O-kay," Wyatt said slowly, staring at Chris almost thoughtfully as he left.

Chris exhaled audibly, only now realizing that he'd been holding his breath. It wasn't that he didn't trust his brother, or that he didn't want him around. But Chris couldn't deny that his body had developed a will of its own since last week, whenever he was thinking about a certain blond doctor. And he really didn't need Wyatt to witness it, should it happen now, too. Though he dearly hoped it wouldn't, because having Dr. Chase realise that he had a hard-on might be even more embarrassing than having Wyatt notice it. But Chris couldn't send Dr. Chase out of the room, could he?

He turned his head to look at the Australian, and wanted to explain his strange behaviour, but he just couldn't. Since Dr. Chase hadn't stopped examining him during the small exchange with Wyatt, he was still standing pretty near to Chris. Now that the young man had turned his head, the doctor's face was merely inches away from his, and the almost needy expression in those blue-green eyes took Chris's breath away.

Chase froze and the moment stretched, while they were so close that their breaths mingled and Chase had to tilt his head so their noses wouldn't touch. The young doctor asked himself what it would be like to just close the small gap and actually taste the soft lips in front of him, instead of just staring at them.

Chris shuddered in anticipation of a kiss he desperately hoped wouldn't come, because it would change him forever, and he just didn't know whether he really wanted that. He liked to think he didn't, but he didn't trust his feelings with Dr. Chase standing right in front of him, his hands still on Chris's body, not examining anymore, just touching now.

A knock on the door startled them and Chase took a small step back, eyes cast down, grabbing the patient's file to at least look as if he was doing something useful.

Chris let his gaze wander around, looking everywhere but at Dr. Chase. He wanted to say something, to tell the Australian that it wasn't that easy for him to realise that he was attracted – not to mention turned on like never before – by a _man_ after having been straight for the past twenty years. That he didn't want to hurt him, but really needed time to... to figure things out. But Chris didn't get the chance.

Without another knock the door opened and a man in his late forties, unshaven and with a cane, took a small step inside.

"What the hell are you doing here?" he barked at Chase, ignoring Chris completely.

Chase, on the other hand, ignored the man, busying himself with writing something in Chris's file. Obviously the older man wasn't impressed. He eyed Chase for a moment, then said,

"Drop it! I need you upstairs."

"I'll be there in a minute, Dr. House."

"You can continue molesting poor kids later. I'm sure there are many to your liking waiting outside. Wilson can take it from here.It's his shift now anyway. You should really start learning how to read a watch."

As if by magic another man appeared right behind the man Chase had called "Dr. House". He was younger than House, but older than Chase as far as Chris could see. Chase sighed softly, cast his eyes down and nodded. House left and this Dr. Wilson entered the room. Chase handed him the file and turned to Chris.

Oddly enough the young man didn't seem to feel awkward about what had happened between them just moments ago. Well, almost anyway. Maybe he just hadn't noticed. Or maybe he was just dispelling it for now. Chase decided to tag along. He was good at tagging along. He'd always been. Maybe one of his bigger problems.

"This is Dr. Wilson, in case you have any questions. But the pain should go away or at least get better within the next week."

"Yeah. That was what you told me the last time, too. Who was that?"

Chris nodded in direction of the still open door, catching a glimpse of Wyatt waiting patiently a few feet away.

"Dr. House."

"He doesn't like you, does he?"

Chase looked briefly at Wilson, who didn't let on what he was thinking, features calm and carefully composed as always.

"He doesn't like anybody," Chase replied. "That aside, he's always like this when there's a case he just can't solve."

Not that Chase had anything to do with said case. Nothing more than some obscure internet research anyway.

"Why didn't you tell him he could take his cane and shove it up his ass?" Chris asked.

Chase tried hard to not burst into laughter, but couldn't suppress a grin.

"He's my boss."

"If Gideon ever talks to me like that, he'll be in for quite a surprise."

"Gideon?"

Actually Chase didn't have anything to do in the examination room anymore, but he just didn't want to leave. He'd rather spend time with Chris than in front of a computer screen with House. Or better all alone, because no-one would be there to keep him company, while he was searching his way through the depths of the internet in order to find something about whatever House had told him to. And there was no other reason for the head of diagnostics to ask for him, Chase had no illusions about it. Or maybe House just wanted him to wash his car.

"_My_ boss," the young man answered. "Or kind of. It's complicated, but my mother thought it'd build my character when I'm working for him for a few weeks. She read way too much _'Calvin & Hobbes'_, if you ask me."

"Maybe, but obviously she's a woman with a good taste. I love _'Calvin & Hobbes'_."

Dr. Wilson cleared his throat discreetly and Chase nodded as if to himself.

"Look, I have to go. Take care, okay? And stay out of Chet's way for a while."

"Will do. Thank you, Dr. Chase."

Chase left, trying to push the young student out of his mind. It would be the last time he'd seen him anyway. Chris had no reason to return to - _'him'_ - the hospital again.

xxx

As soon as Dr. Chase had left, Chris played oyster and let the other doctor "re-examine" him. Even though he didn't see why this should be necessary. Either Dr. Chase was still only a student, or not as good as a doctor as he seemed to be, _or_ there was something very wrong with this hospital. At least with Dr. Chase. And Chris was sure, this Dr. House had something to do with it.

Possibility number one was utter crap, because if Dr. Chase was still a student who needed to be controlled constantly, they wouldn't have let him treat patients without supervision last week. Number two... No. Chris didn't want to believe that. From what little he'd seen of Dr. Chase he was thorough and smart. No sign of bungling whatsoever. Which left number three...

Chris tilted his head.

"He doesn't just dislike Dr. Chase, but he doesn't trust him either, right?"

Dark brown eyes met Chris's inquiring stare.

"It's a little more complicated than you think," Dr. Wilson replied, his voice gentle. "Are you a friend of Dr. Chase?"

"No," Chris answered, and hopped off the examination chair.

Without a good-bye or even waiting for the doctor to say something, he left the room, making a bee-line for his brother.

"Let's go."

Again he didn't wait for an answer, just kept walking, forcing Wyatt to walk along.

"I saw Dr. Chase leaving," Wyatt said. "Something wrong?"

"So it would seem. But I don't think it's about Dr. Chase – more like the other guy, the one with the cane."

"Mhm."

"What?"

"Nothing. Very handsome, don't you think?"

"The doctor with the cane? No."

"Dr. Chase."

"Guess so."

"Do you think he's married?"

"No ring."

"Or that he has a girlfriend? Maybe...a boyfriend?

Chris stopped, looking at his brother, slightly annoyed.

"Is there anything you'd want to tell me?"

"No. Just saying."

Chris knew his brother well enough to know that Wyatt never "just said" something. He'd wanted to see Chris's reaction to his questions. The young man sighed.

"Wyatt..."

Chris didn't continue.

"Yes?" Wyatt asked.

"Nevermind."

Chris couldn't tell him. He hadn't even known what exactly to tell him. If there was anything to tell at all. Chris hadn't even begun to figure out what all of that meant. And if he'd wanted it to mean, what he _thought_ it was meaning. It was confusing enough, even without his older brother getting his hands in.

TBC (sooner or later)

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**A/N:** So? What do you think, guys? I live and die for feedback, so please let me know. :)

The small "House part" almost killed me. I swear, I lost my sleep over it. Please forgive me, if it's not exactly House-like, but it was the best I could think of. Like I said to a few people already; if I was able to write House properly, I'd have chosen House/Wilson as a pairing for my story. :)


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's Notes:** Thanks to everybody for all the wonderful reviews. Sadly this is the last part I've finished so far, and since my job is keeping me busy, it'll take me **considerably** longer to update than up until now. (And I'm not talking weeks, guys. Think a bit longer term.) I'm very sorry.

But... Well, this whole story arch was created because of a prompt table over at LiveJournal, which I chose to write for. There are... wait, let me look this up, so I won't lie to you... three more Chris/Chase fics, just not following directly this third part. I skipped a few chapters and wrote a few things later in my timeline for this story.

If this doesn't bother you, I'll gladly give you the link. Just e-mail me at writergirlweb.de or comment here and tell me that you're interested. :)

Thanks to all of you for sticking with this story and... be patient with me, yeah?

* * *

Chris was insanely glad that the day was over. Jenny had yelled at him in public, accusing him of being "the most heartless lover _ever_", completely ignoring the fact that they'd never been lovers in the first place. Her yelling had caught the attention of a certain football quarterback named Chet, and Chris had envisioned himself in the emergency room of the Princeton Plainsboro again, but Bianca had been able to calm things down. – At least long enough for Chris to run and hide.

He didn't know where on Earth Jenny had gotten the idea of him loving her. He'd never made any moves on her or even hinted that he was interested. Because he just _wasn't_! And now that he'd met a certain doctor with blond hair, fair skin and the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen, he was even less interested. What was the comparative of "not interested"? And had he really just thought that Dr. Robert Chase had "the most beautiful eyes he'd ever seen"? God, when did he get so cheesy?

Anyway. After Jenny's verbal attack, the day had been far from over. Chris had swum his worst time ever since he'd started training and when he came back to his locker, some stupid fucker had cracked the lock and taken his clothes out. He'd found them in one of the toilets, soaking wet and smelling like...well. Let's say, not even Jenny would've had a problem staying away from him. Man, somebody at this school had clearly watched too much _'Veronica Mars'_.

Usually his fellow students at least left him alone, not making fun or bullying him, just ignoring him. And that was perfectly fine with Chris. He didn't need superficial small talk to feel better or accepted or anything. He was going to school here. The rest of his life had nothing to do with it. But since the "Jenny incident" three weeks ago, and her colourful five minutes earlier that day, some students seemed to think they had to socialise with Chet one way or the other.

So he'd borrowed some clothes from Wyatt (who luckily still had football training); looked like a clown, since Wyatt's clothes were way too big for him; and walked home, because God or whoever hadn't been done with him yet, and his car hadn't been willing to start.

Yes. Chris was not only happy that the day was over, he was _insanely_ happy that the day was over.

Before he could lock up the door to his house it was opened from inside and an uncomfortably familiar voice inquired,

"Christopher Perry Halliwell! Where have you been?"

Chris's eyes widened.

"Grandma?"

'_Oh no! No, no, no, no! Please let this be a dream!'_

"And why do you look like a clown?"

Her dark, intense eyes shot daggers at him. Then there came another voice from inside.

"Chris? Thank God you're here now! Tell her that watching the _'X-Files'_ is absolutely justifiable at the age of nine. Dylan won't get any nightmares."

"Matthew?"

Usually Chris really, really liked his cousins. Just not right now.

He walked past his grandmother into the house, straight into the kitchen. Coffee. The only way to survive the next, say, fifteen minutes, was coffee. Good thing the coffee machine in this household was working all day long. While Chris poured himself a cup, Matthew and Penny announced their arrival by fighting loudly about the pros and cons of a TV show like _'The X-Files'_. As soon as they entered the kitchen the topic seemed completely forgotten. Matthew grabbed his half-eaten sandwich from the table, and Penny concentrated fully on Chris again.

"We expected you sooner."

"Swim training."

"And where's your car?"

"Broken."

"Broken? What happened?"

"It doesn't really matter, does it?" Matthew cut in, mumbling around a mouthful of sandwich. "He's here now. Leo told us you had trouble at school, like, the local quarterback beat you up. Why didn't you fight back? Or did you? I mean, it's so unfair. Adults never tell the details you want to know. Did you fly into a corner? Or at least a few feet along the school corridor? Man, I wish I'd been there."

"Swallow," Chris deadpanned and Matthew did.

"Did Bianca throw herself in front of you to protect you?" the boy continued without missing a beat. "She's tough, you know? When I'm older I'll have a girlfriend like her, too. Though Kirsten's also cool. But she's still taller than me. That sucks."

"Breathe."

"Where was Wyatt anyway? Isn't he supposed to protect you? I mean, you're way weaker than him. Practically a towel. I always protect Dylan. He's..."

Chris left the kitchen taking his cup with him. A bad day was just getting worse. And now his grandmother was following him. Great.

"Where are you going?"

"Upstairs."

"I can see that. Why?"

"My room's there. I live here, you know? Where's mom?"

"Your parents went out. It's Thursday. And Piper reminded me to remind _you_ that you'll have to replace Peter at the _'P3'_ tonight."

"Oh."

Damn! He'd forgotten!

"Okay."

He continued his way to his room, closed the door and turned on the stereo to drown out the noise of Matt and Penny. Chris listened for a moment and then turned up the volume a little. Better. The only thing that was not better now...He cursed silently. After a day like that all he _didn't_ want was working at his mother's club. He might kill himself accidentally. It was definitely one of those days.

Since Matthew and Penny were practically born on bad terms, the fighting started again, and Chris was amazed anew that it didn't seem to bother his younger cousin Dylan in any way. He must be either deaf or possess an endless amount of patience.

Neither applied to Chris, though. He definitely had to get out of here. Fast.

Chris changed his clothes, put on his i-Pod and left Matthew's protests and grandma's clamour behind. Sometimes _'Oasis'_ just wasn't loud enough.

xxx

He'd really started to feel better. That had been the reason for him to go to swim training today. The bruises were gone, he could move without any pain at all and his father had said that he could try if he wanted to. As long as he took it slowly and dropped it as soon as the pain returned. Which it hadn't. Sure, his time had been crap, but after almost four weeks without training, he hadn't expected anything else.

And then there'd been Jenny and Chet and... grandma. Chris rolled his eyes. Why today? Couldn't his parents have chosen another evening to do... well, whatever they were doing on evenings like this. Chris quickly decided that he really didn't want to know.

Chris noticed that he'd passed the Baxter Building three times already, and took a left turn, for a change.

Where was Paige, anyway? Matt and Dylan were _her_ children, after all, and she could've really given him a warning before she'd dropped them off at home for him, or better his grandma, to babysit. – Which was a kind of puzzle anyway, because Paige knew that Thursday was his parents' "day off", so to speak.

Chris shook his head. If he started to think about this – and the illogicality of it – _properly_, his head might explode.

Just when he looked up again to check where he was, he found himself in front of Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital, eye to eye with Dr. Robert Chase, who'd just stepped out of the entrance door. Chris swore he just didn't know how he'd come here. Or even why! All he'd wanted was to get out of the house to calm down and get his wits together. – Which was definitely impossible with Dr. Chase around.

Chris really wanted to say something. "Hi," at least. Maybe try to explain what brought him here, even if he didn't have the slightest idea. But he couldn't think of anything. It was as if his mind had just gone blank at the mere sight of the young doctor.

After a moment of silence, in which Chris stared anywhere but at Dr. Chase, the blond Australian asked the most sensible thing Chris had heard in a long while;

"Dinner?"

Chris nodded and swallowed hard, not wanting his answer coming out like a croak because his mouth was suddenly as dry as the Sahara.

"Yes."

Chase was surprised, but didn't let it on, afraid that if he did anything "wrong" Chris would just startle and run like a scared deer or something. Though the comparison to a deer didn't exactly apply to the young man in front of him, it was the best Chase could come up with right now.

He wasn't sure where the kids were going these days to have dinner, but he was pretty sure that "haute cuisine" restaurants were definitely out of question. So he looked at Chris and said,

"Okay. Your call. You're invited and you're on to pick the place we're going to."

Chris swallowed again.

"Erm...I don't know." And he really didn't. "Actually I don't feel like...going out, eating in a crowded place and such. It..." He took a deep breath. "It would take too long to explain, but I'd really prefer something quiet."

He winced at his words, because he made it almost sound like he'd wanted a date, but the young doctor didn't seem to notice. Or maybe he just didn't mind.

Chase thought about that for a moment, then nodded as if to himself.

"Okay, let's go."

Chris raised his brows.

"And where are we going? I thought it was my call."

Chase grinned.

"And since you have no idea where you want to go – other than to a not crowded place – I guess you'll just have to trust me. Car's over there." Leading the way, he asked Chris, "What are you listening to?"

"Hm?" It was hard to pay attention to the Australian's words when they were spoken with that voice and that lovely little accent. Chris inwardly rolled his eyes at his own cheesiness and remembered his iPod. "Oh, right. Erm..._'Oasis'_."

"I'm still undecided which one of their albums I like best. It's a close-run thing between _'Heathen Chemistry'_ and _'Be Here Now'_, but in case of emergency I'd say the latter."

Chris blinked.

"You...like _'Oasis'_?"

"Sure." Chase shrugged. "It's difficult not to like them. I like rock, pop, classic, a bit of rap and various other styles, too. Whatever rocks my boat, so to speak."

Chris didn't know what to say, and he didn't have to.

"So?" Chase asked. "Only _'Oasis'_ or do you have other favourites, too?"

Chris couldn't help thinking that for the next weeks their topics to talk about wouldn't be any problem at all, regardless of the fact, that they most probably wouldn't meet ever again after that evening.

xxx

"I can't believe you did that."

Chris was still undecided whether to be insulted or amused.

"What?" Chase asked back. "You didn't want to go out eating in a crowded place. This isn't a crowded place."

"It's a park!"

"Right. And we have plenty of space in every direction. Not crowded at all. You complaining?"

"Hot dogs? For dinner?"

"Best hog dogs in town," Chase replied, nodding. "If you'd have rather a burger you could've told Manny. You did have a choice, you know?"

Amused. Definitely amused. It was very hard to be pissed at the young doctor when...well, when he was like that. Relaxed, open, slightly mocking Chris... Plus now that he'd eaten his hot dog and they were walking around in the park, Chris had to fight the ridiculous urge to hold hands with Dr. Chase. Argh!

"Alright, alright," Chris sighed. "I got it. Thanks. – Mom."

Chase frowned.

"I'm not sure whether that was a compliment or an insult."

Chris grinned.

"In this case, an insult."

Chase stared at him in mock indignation, and Chris couldn't help laughing.

"You wound me," the blond said. "Here I am, trying to make you all comfy and happy, and you insult me. Really, I am disappointed."

"Guess you've heard worse with a boss like yours."

Chris regretted the words as soon as they'd slipped out of his mouth, because suddenly all the carelessness and joy on the Australian's face were gone and he grew serious again.

"I'm sorry," Chris said, desperately wanting the mischievous glint back in the green-blue eyes. "It's none of my business, really."

"No," Chase said softly, looking at everything but Chris. "You're right. I have heard worse, and not only from House." He briefly remembered the conversation between Forman and Wilson that he'd lately overheard accidentally. "It's just that he's the most present...problem, so to say, at the moment. It's difficult to work with him, but then again, it always has been."

He could feel Chris eyes on him, but didn't look up.

"If he's such an ass all the time, then why don't you just leave? I mean, you can be a doctor everywhere, right? Or why don't you at least...I don't know, talk back or something? Sure, he's your boss, but you don't have to put up with all of his shit. He attacks you on a personal level."

Now Chase _did_ look up.

"Says somebody who doesn't fight back when he's physically attacked by a quarterback."

"That was something entirely different," Chris replied, and Chase could tell by his voice that the young man was adamant about that. "He didn't attack me because he questioned one of my principles, or because he didn't like me personally. The idiot hadn't even seen me standing there until Jenny started talking to me. He attacked me because he was jealous and wanted to impress her. I was just the unlucky guy getting in the way. Could've been everybody else, because I don't think Jenny's really in love with me. Maybe she is, but I doubt it. More likely she just wanted to make Chet jealous, or do something to see if it'd get her any reaction at all. I don't know. Fact is that I didn't have to fight for _him_, because he's never been my friend. I didn't have to fight for her, either, because she hasn't been my friend and she never will be, because I just can't stand her. I didn't even have to fight for myself, because as soon as Chet-bee buzzes along to the next flower the problem will resolve itself and I can only feel sorry for the next jerk, that Chet's next chick will choose to make him jealous."

"So you do fight if necessary?"

"You bet. I once defended Bianca against almost the whole damn school, because somebody found out that her mother used to be a porn star."

"Really? Do I know her?"

Chris only gave him a long look.

"Okay, okay," Chase yielded and brought up his hands in a surrendering gesture.

"This wasn't because they didn't like Bianca. It was because they didn't like her mother. And that's against my principles; punishing the child for what the parents have done. No way. And before you ask, no, I didn't stand a chance, but at least I went down fighting."

Chase looked down thoughtfully, studying the stones along the way. The sun had already started to set and the park was pretty much deserted by now.

"You have to make compromises sometimes," he said softly. "Being hell-bent on getting your own way only isolates you."

"I know," Chris replied, equally soft, seemingly understanding. "But there's a difference between compromising and being submissive."

Chase looked at Chris, but didn't reply. Maybe the young man was right. Maybe he should just tell House what he could do with this cane of his, and to Hell with the consequences. Maybe that would render House speechless, if only for a nano-second, and maybe Chase would indeed feel better. But...maybe Chris was wrong and everything would go worse from this point. It definitely could, Chase knew. No illusions about it.

And first and foremost, did Chase really want to change anything?

Well, there was at least one thing: the topic.

"How old were you?" he asked Chris, trying to distract himself from thoughts he wasn't yet ready to think. "I mean, when you defended Bianca?"

Chris remembered Matthew's words and grinned.

"Let's say I was at an age when girls were taller than boys."

"You've known her for that long?"

Chris nodded.

"We've known each other since kindergarten."

"She must be glad to have a boyfriend like you."

"I'm not her boyfriend!" Well, that might have come out a tad too violent. "I mean, I was," Chris hastened to explain and play down his reaction, "but now Wyatt is."

And why was he telling Dr. Chase all this again?

"Wyatt?" the Australian asked disbelievingly. "Your brother?"

"Yes. It was just...let's say, a matter of time. Bianca and me, we're not a good match. Not as lovers, anyway. But we managed to stay friends."

Chase was impressed.

"That says something for the strength of your friendship."

"Yeah, well..."

Chris shrugged, blushing a little. He liked the admiration in the Australian's voice. Not to mention the expression in his eyes. It felt...good to be looked at like this.

"So," Chase asked, "why didn't you want to go to a restaurant or somewhere equally crowded? Chet?"

"Indirectly, yes."

That earned Chris a questioningly raised eyebrow, and he sighed.

"First Jenny, then Chet, then there was my swim training and my clothes in a toilet, then my car that obviously had decided to socialise with Chet and Jenny and...yeah. Then I went home and there was my grandma and my cousins from Hell. No, I'm lying. Matty and Dylan are great. Just not on a day like this."

Silence.

"Your clothes in a toilet?"

"Yeah."

Chase shook his head.

"I really thought kids these days were beyond that, going straight for the kill instead. Like,...burning down your car or torturing your pets."

"Good thing I don't have any pets then," Chris dead-panned. "And no. They're assholes, but not criminals. Not all of them anyway. Have a little faith! I mean, things haven't changed so much since you were at school."

"Well, it's been a while."

"What? Five years? How old are you?"

"According to Dr. House, somewhere around twelve."

"Stop fishing for compliments, will ya? I won't tell you how young you look, so beat it, 'kay?"

Chase couldn't help laughing at that, enjoying the grin it got him from Chris. It really had been a long time since Chase had felt so much at ease with somebody else around. Not that there were so many to choose from. Either he was at work with House, Cameron and Foreman or...yeah, well, home alone, so to say.

The silence stretched, but neither of them felt the need to fill it with meaningless small talk. Chris wasn't exactly talkative anyway – well, at least not given "normal" circumstances – and Dr. Chase seemed to be lost in thought.

Suddenly Chris remembered something his parents had talked about last week, and he said, "By the way, don't get scared when a Dr. Leo Halliwell wants to speak with you in the near future. That's my dad. He only wants to make sure that I'm not going to have to suffer from any permanent damage, and that you are, indeed, a doctor. He's always suspicious like that. Pay no attention."

Chase snorted.

"Well, technically speaking, I'm not at the moment. A doctor, I mean. Sure, I have a medical degree and I definitely finished my studies, but..."

"But?"

Chase sighed.

"I made a mistake. A stupid and useless mistake. I tend to do things like that sometimes, you know. Then again, I think, given the same circumstances, I'd do everything just the same. But since it came out, House has treated me like an insolent brat. And incapable, too. I'm an intensivist, and what do I do? Research at Google. I mean, we have people for things like that. Other than me, I mean. I should be with the team, trying to save lives. No, instead I'm sitting around, bored out of my mind, and every time I have even the faintest idea of doing something _really_ productive, House shows up and gives me more internet research. Or watching lab cultures grow or something. That sucks. What sense does it make being a doctor, if I don't get a chance to actually treat patients?"

Chris rolled his eyes.

"Dr. Chase, you sound like a kicked puppy, seriously now."

"Call me Robert, and: what?"

"Sorry. Maybe that was too insensitive, but...why do you care so much? Your boss is cranky and annoying and doesn't let you do the things you did before. So what? He doesn't like you. You'll never change his mind. Find some other things to do! Distraction's everything. I learned that from my friendship with Bianca."

"Care to explain?"

"There's been so many days when Bianca's been pissed off or generally bitchy or whatever. And I don't mean only these days when most women are completely off track due to hormonally induced insanity anyway. Other days, too. They're easy to recognize by that significant "Nothing!" you get as an answer when you've asked, "What's wrong, hon?". Indicating either that she's pissed off, but doesn't want to waste her time by explaining why, assuming you wouldn't get it anyway; _or_ that she's pissed off because of _you_, but doesn't want to tell you because she wants you to just _know_ it, which would, of course, be a sign for your undying love and soulmateness. Yuck!"

Chase couldn't help laughing.

"I don't think that 'soulmateness' is a word, but I like it. So? What did you do on days like these?"

"At first I suffered like hell, because I really loved her, you know, and I thought it was all my fault. Until my mother told me to just relax and wait. That Bianca only needed some time to herself. So I started to read more again, I finally got my homework done, I watched TV, hung around with Wyatt, anything. Of course, you can't do something like that at work. Just...I don't know. Take an i-Pod with you for boring internet research, make plans for what you're gonna do when everything is back to normal. Think about what you'd do if it's never going to be normal again. Write reports, read medicine related stuff, whatever. Just _do_ something! Self pity won't change things for the better. What do you normally do for a distraction?"

Several things came to Chase's mind, but somehow he had the feeling that sex, drugs and tending to your alcoholic mother were no real options. Sex was not an exactly brilliant idea in a hospital with House. Sooner or later he'd know. He knew everything. Drugs...Well, he didn't intend to go through withdrawal and detox ever again. As for the latter...His mother was dead. End of story.

Obviously Chase had been silent for too long, because Chris asked, "What did you do when you were bored, when you were younger?"

For some reason Chase didn't even have to think about that.

"I made music."

That seemed to baffle Chris somewhat; at least enough to stop walking.

"Come again?"

"I made music," Chase repeated and turned to look at Chris. "I played guitar in a band." Whenever he'd had the time, that was. "We weren't perfect and we didn't have regular gigs or anything, but every time we played it was a blast."

And a good way to distract himself. Sometimes his mother had even accompanied him, so he'd been able to take her mind off...well, the alcohol and everything else self-destructive. It had never worked for the _whole_ evening, but at least for a few hours.

"O-kay...-" Chris said slowly and took a step towards Chase. "Well, I don't think that's an option for you at work either then. Sorry."

Chase smiled.

"Don't be. You tried to help. I appreciate the effort."

Chris returned the smile crookedly, and suddenly Chase noticed that the young man was standing much closer to him than when they'd stopped walking. So close, in fact, that he would only have to lean forward a little to touch Chris' lips with his. So close, that Chase could clearly see the amber coloured specks aerating the dark green iris. Long dark lashes touched the light skin when Chris blinked, but he didn't back off, and Chase's heart missed a beat, though he still didn't dare to hope.

This, Chris thought, must've been the most unusual, weirdest, strangest dinner he'd ever had in his life. But the strangest thing was that even with Robert standing so close, he didn't feel the urge to flight, or even flinch. Yes, it felt...odd, but in a good kind of way. The young doctor had – and here was the cheesy thought from this afternoon again – beautiful eyes, not to mention the sensual mouth, that wasn't too far away from Chris' own. And Chris liked the scent. Robert's aftershave mixed with the fragrance of grass and trees and maybe a little hospital disinfectant.

Chris smiled but got serious again when their lips brushed against each other in the faintest of touches. He could feel Robert's hands on his hips and was just about to reciprocate when his cellphone rang.

Startled, the young man took a step back, almost causing Chase to fall over, but fortunately the Australian was able to catch his fall. Chris checked the caller ID and flipped the cell open, but he didn't get a word from whatever Steve at the other end of the line was telling him, because he was still trying to figure out what the Hell had almost happened. And why he wanted to turn back the time to switch his cellphone off before meeting Robert.

Finally Steve's words reached him and Chris said, "Steve, take a deep breath and just relax, okay? I'll be there in fifteen minutes, I promise."

Chris flipped the phone shut and didn't even give the awkward silence, that was lurking in the shadows, the slightest chance to actually come up.

"Could you drive me to a nightclub called _'P3'_?"

"Sure thing," Chase replied.

They started walking.

"It's not what you think," Chris said suddenly.

Chase blinked.

"And what is it that I'm thinking?"

"It's..." The young man threw him a nervous glance but didn't hold his gaze. "It's not a date or anything. It's my mother's club. I work there. And I promised to stand in for Peter, who called in sick today. It's..."

"You don't owe me an excuse or anything, Chris," Chase said softly. "I..." He didn't know how to put it without scaring the younger man off. "It's not that we had an appointment or... Really, it's okay."

"So, you're not... angry?"

"Why would I be?"

"Just a thought. So... we're cool?"

Chase smiled.

"Yeah. We're definitely cool, Chris."

xxx

They needed a little more than fifteen minutes to reach the _'P3'_, but Chris was sure Steve could live with that. He turned to Robert.

"Thanks for driving, and for -" he grinned in memory of the hot dogs "- dinner."

"You're welcome."

There was a moment of silence before Chris added,

"I'll be here for the rest of the week. In the evenings, I mean. Maybe you'd like to join me? Of course, I'll have to work, but the drinks are good, the people, too, and we have pretty good live bands."

Robert smiled, and there it was again. The strange but wonderful fluttering in Chris's stomach.

"I've never been able to resist good live bands," the Australian said.

Chris nodded and opened the door. Afterwards, he wouldn't be able to explain what had come over him, but he didn't want to leave just like that. It felt... wrong. One foot already on the pavement, he turned to Robert again, as if he'd forgotten something, and leaned over the gear shift and – one hand on Robert's thigh, the other on his shoulder – Chris planted a soft kiss on the older man's lips. Sweet. Chaste. Just a quick goodbye.

"I'll see you tomorrow then," Chris said, maybe a little breathless, shocked by his own boldness, and he climbed out of the car without waiting for an answer. He gave Robert a short wave, then ran downstairs. Steve would be pissed, but Chris didn't care much. It was a wonderful evening, wasn't it?

TBC (I just don't know when...)

* * *

**A/N 2:** Okay, so I'm mixing the character Dr. Robert Chase a little with the real person Jesse Spencer, but seriously! With comments like these, what's a poor fangirl supposed to do?

_"Mum decided that I could sing a bit, so she put me in a choir, which I hated and it was just a nightmare. I was a rebellious sort of choirboy."_

_"I started off with violin, then I started learning guitar, then I went to piano. But I self-taught piano just because I enjoyed it. I've always really enjoyed music. I haven't played much the last 4 years because I've been traveling around, so when I got his role Neal in **'Uptown Girls'** (2003), I had to start playing the guitar again"._

_"I always find music guys writing about love. Think of something else for a change. I'm sorry, but it's been done, and it does work and it's good and all that, but I think something else would be nice. I tend not to write lyrics, cause I'm a bad lyricist. I sort of write the music, and I can orchestrate the whole thing, but the words, singing 'I woke up this morning...' Awful stuff."_

Source (IMDB)

I think I especially love the '_rebellious sort of choirboy'_ bit the most. :D Now there's an image. ;) Plus, I've seen _'Uptown Girls'_. He's a kinda jerk in it, but a very hot one ;D and I really like him singing. He's no Steve Perry or Freddy Mercury, of course, but good enough. It's cute.


End file.
